The Ghost: A Modern Fantasy. Arnold Bennett

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The Ghost: A Modern Fantasy - Arnold Bennett

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sight of her, Alresca's face broke into an exquisite, sad smile. Then he gave his valet a glance, and the valet crept from the room. I, as in professional duty bound, remained. The most I could do was to retire as far from the couch, and pretend to busy myself with the rolling up of spare bandages.

      "My poor Rosa," I heard Alresca begin.

      The girl had dropped to her knees by his side, and taken his hand.

      "How did it happen, Alresca? Tell me."

      "I cannot tell you! I saw—saw something, and I fell, and caught my leg against some timber, and I don't remember any more."

      "Saw something? What did you see?"

      There was a silence.

      "Were you frightened?" Rosa continued softly.

      Then another silence.

      "Yes," said Alresca at length, "I was frightened."

      "What was it?"

      "I say I cannot tell you. I do not know."

      "You are keeping something from me, Alresca," she exclaimed passionately.

      I was on the point of interfering in order to bring the colloquy to an end, but I hesitated. They appeared to have forgotten that I was there.

      "How so?" said Alresca in a curious whisper. "I have nothing to keep from you, my dear child."

      "Yes," she said, "you are keeping something from me. This afternoon you told Sir Cyril that you were expecting a misfortune. Well, the misfortune has occurred to you. How did you guess that it was coming? Then, to-night, as they were carrying you away on that stretcher, do you remember what you said?"

      "What did I say?"

      "You remember, don't you?" Rosa faltered.

      "I remember," he admitted. "But that was nonsense. I didn't know what I was saying. My poor Rosa, I was delirious. And that is just why I wished to see you—in order to explain to you that that was nonsense. You must forget what I said. Remember only that I love you."

      ("So Emmeline was right," I reflected.)

      Abruptly Rosa stood up.

      "You must not love me, Alresca," she said in a shaking voice. "You ask me to forget something; I will try. You, too, must forget something—your love."

      "But last night," he cried, in accents of an almost intolerable pathos—"last night, when I hinted—you did not—did not speak like this, Rosetta."

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